Drop Dead Travis!
by Blynneda
Summary: Parody of "Dead Stop," another episode from long, long ago.


                                                **Drop Dead (Travis)!**

Teaser:

Archer:  Wow.  Looky the big hole.

Trip:  If that mine had detonated another meter to the left...well, the hole would have been one meter to the side of this one.  We can't polarize the port bow plating until the breach is sealed.

Archer:  Really?  I thought we did it last episode.  How long will this take to fix?

Trip:  At least the rest of the season.  Maybe longer.

Archer:  You mean, the rest of the episodes will be about us fixing stuff?  That's pretty boring.  We'll never get renewed.  We should send out a distress call.  We've answered enough calls for help the past year, it's time for someone to return the favor.

Trip:  Your spirit of generosity abounds.  We haven't answered that many.

Archer:  Archer to Ensign Sato.  Send out a cry for help...now!

Hoshi (over comm):  Finally.  I was wondering when you'd suck it up.

ACT 1:

Sickbay:

Reed screams in horrible pain because Phlox is ripping his feet off with big sharp claws.

Reed:  You're killing me!

Phlox:  I was only tickling your feet.

Reed:  It can't be ethical to inflict this much pain.

Phlox:  It is...on Denobula.  A positive attitude is vital to the healing process.  The more you complain, the longer it will take.

Reed:  I have to complain.  I'm British.  I wish I'd just been left out there to die.

Phlox (sotto voce):  So do I; so do I.

Reed:  When can I return to duty?

Phlox:  A week or two.

Reed:  Two weeks?  That means I'll be stuck here for two whole episodes!

Phlox:  It'd take less time if you let me apply more Regulan bloodworms.  Or Leechy!

Reed (shrieks):  Ahh!  No!

Ready Room:

Archer:  Did you hear that?

Porthos:  Rrryeah!

Archer:  I thought Trip fixed that squeak last year.  I'm gonna call him up to fix it right now.

T'Pol (over comm):  Captain, we're receiving a response to the distress call.

Archer:  Already?  That didn't take long.  Maybe the Romulans will help us.

Bridge:

Archer:  Who is it?

T'Pol:  A Tellarite freighter.  I'll respond for Hoshi, who is responsible for communications.

Archer:  Hi!  Thanks for answering our cry for help.

Tellarite (in nasally, pimply-boy voice):  How can I help you?

Archer:  We need stuff fixed.  Can you come fix it for us?

Tellarite:  Would you like fries with that?

Archer:  Mmm...maybe.

Tellarite:  Actually, we can't help you...mumble, mumble...Repair station...mumble.

Archer:  Did he say "repair station?"

T'Pol:  I think he said "pear inflation."

Hoshi:  I thought he said "translation," sir.

Travis:  I heard "chair nation."

Archer:  Well, let's check it out, anyway.  Sounds like fun.

Travis:  Why not?  We have nothing better to do.

Arrival at repair station:

Travis:  Ooh, cool, it looks like two giant aluminum cans in the sky.

Archer:  This is Captain Archer of Enterprise.  Can you help us?

No response.  Everyone looks at each other.

Archer:  Do you want me to get on my knees and beg, or what?

No response.

Travis:  Maybe it's a chair nation, after all.

T'Pol:  No bio signs.

Hoshi:  Maybe it's abandoned.

Archer:  But it looks so shiny and new.

Trip:  We could go over there and just take stuff, then.

Archer:  What's it look like inside?

T'Pol:  Why don't you drive up to a window and look?

Archer:  Whoa--  (bright light shines at them)

T'Pol:  Biomolecular probe.

Travis:  Hey, look, nothing's happening yet, but by the time you look, it will.

Trip:  It's like a giant accordion!

T'Pol:  The atmosphere is being replaced by a warmer oxygen-nitrogen one.

Hoshi:  Still no response to our hails.

T'Pol:  It appears an invitation's been extended.

Archer (offended):  Well, they need to work on their hospitality.  Humph!  Not talking to me!

Trip:  Maybe they can't talk.

T'Pol:  Maybe they just don't like you.

Archer:  All right, we'll go anyway.

Going into station:

Archer:  Here, you go first, I'm scared.

Trip:  Ooh, pretty white.  Why innit our ship purdy like this?

Enter the circular room:

Archer:  Hey, that's our ship!

Trip:  They've identified every little thing wrong with it.  Like that dent I made when I didn't know how to fly.  You remember, in the pilot?  No pun intended!

Archer:  Don't you fix any of the minor things I tell you to do?

Trip:  I don't have time to when you plow us into trouble every other day.

Archer:  Hey, everything's in English.  (looks at screen)  Even I can read it.  Why is there a mug shot of Malcolm here?  Did he have a career as an intergalactic criminal I don't know about?  Maybe that was his hobby...

T'Pol:  Apparently this station can repair Mr. Reed as well.

Archer:  Does that mean he'll be back on the bridge sooner?  He's always complaining.

Computer:  Analysis is complete.  Select a method of payment.

Archer:  Who's this?

Computer:  Your inquiry is not recognized.

Trip:  It sounds like a computer.

Computer:  Your inquiry is not recognized.

Trip:  I didn't ask anything!

Computer:  Select a method of payment.

Archer (reading screen):  Well, we can give them three warp coils, five deuterium injectors, a partridge in a pear tree, or one helmsman.

Trip:  One helmsman?!

Archer:  You think so, too?  All right, that was my choice.

Trip:  Wait!  Why not the warp plasma?

Archer (resigned):  All right.  (presses screen)  Oops, hit the wrong one.  Sorry, Travis.

Computer:  Compensation will be due when repairs are complete...blah, blah...Keep everyone out of the repair areas, over and out.

Archer (amazed):  Look at this!

T'Pol:  It's the repair schedule.

Archer:  Oh, okay.

(mechanical whirring)

Travis (over comm):  Captain!  There's these giant mechanical arms latching onto the ship!

Archer:  It's okay, Travis.  Oh, by the way, you're our payment.

Travis (confused):  I'm what, sir?

Archer:  See ya later!  (signs off)

Computer:  The recreation facility is now available to all crew.  Enjoy your visit.

Trip:  Ooh, recreation.  I hope they have porn.

ACT 2:

Recreation facility:

Trip:  What's this?  Where's the porn?  Cap'n, we should ask for a refund.

Archer (uncertain):  Well, we are getting our ship repaired...

T'Pol:  This is a matter-energy converter.

Trip:  You mean, like a transporter?

T'Pol:  No, like a replicator.  Water, cold.  (a glass of water appears)

Archer (amazed):  Wow, it even comes in a glass, instead of spilling all over the table!

T'Pol (drinks):  It tastes like...water.

Archer:  I thought water had no taste.

Trip:  Wow.  Where does it come from?

T'Pol:  I believe it is magical in origin.

Trip:  Well, I'm hungry.  One pan-fried catfish.  (one pan-fried catfish appears)  Wow.  I didn't even ask for the garnish, or the fork!  (eats)  It's good, but freezing cold.  I guess you have to specify temperature.

Aecher:  I doubt there's a catfish within 130 light years.

Trip:  Actually, one of the crew had one for a pet.

T'Pol:  Not anymore.  The station scanned our database.

Archer:  It would've been nice to've been asked.

T'Pol:  You gave permission by coming up asking for help.

Archer:  What else do they know about us?  Our deepest fears?  Did they read my diary?

Trip (eating):  Cap'n, you've gotta try this!

Archer:  I'll stick with whatever Chef's serving.  Unless it's meatloaf again.  I'll be on the bridge.

Trip:  Well, now that we're alone, you wanna put the "wreck" in recreation?

T'Pol (rolling eyes):  Whatever that means.

Repairs, repairs...

Sickbay:

Reed:  Are you sure it knows what it's doing?

Phlox:  No more than I know what I'm doing!  It's really fixing your leg up there!  I could really use one of these devices, considering how often you get yourself injured.  (device disappears)  Try standing up.

Reed:  Okay.  Ahh!  (falls down)

Phlox (looks down):  I guess you're not quite ready.

Ready Room:

T'Pol:  Repairs are taking place on C deck.  Launch Bay One is scheduled for 2200.

Archer:  They even fixed the squeak in the floor.  Remember that?  I thought we had a gremlin.

T'Pol:  A gremlin.  The last starship captain who thought that was dragged off in a straitjacket.

Archer (confused):  I thought I was the first starship captain.  Is Trip happy with the work?

T'Pol:  Yes.  He said, and I quote, "Now I don't have to work my ass off."

Archer:  Good for him.  I'm worried, though.  Why did they ask for so small a price?

T'Pol:  Perhaps they are not capitalistic pigs like Earth people are.

Archer:  Huh?  Well, they could have left a message.  I'm offended and taken aback.  You don't take much stock in feelings, but it's all I have to go on.

T'Pol:  So that's our problem.

Archer:  Something doesn't smell right.

T'Pol:  Oh, sorry.  I musta cut one.  Vulcan gas can be pretty lethal.

Rec facility:

Happy crewmembers abound.  Travis and Hoshi make out in the background.

Reed:  I started to feel sorry for the Doctor.  He won't be graced with my presence in Sickbay for at least a couple days now.  I think he'll miss me.  (stuffs face with food)

Trip (sarcastic):  I know how he felt.  This technology will replace humans.  It'll make my job obsolete!  Your job, too.

Reed:  My job?  They'll never not need my job...whatever my job is.

Trip:  Tactical officer.

Reed:  Oh, right.

Trip:  You'd need a pretty big computer for that, right?  Our computer's the best in the fleet, and it's three decks high.

Reed (not interested):  I suppose you're right.

Trip:  I'm just statin' facts here.  Of course I'm right.  So, where is it?

Reed:  You don't know where our computer is?  It's three decks high, you can't miss it.

Trip:  No, the computer here.

Reed:  Oh.

Trip:  I ran a scan of the station.  Look.  This is where it would have to be.

Reed (looks at scanner in wonder):  Wow.  It's only, like, a few square millimeters big!

Trip:  It's bigger in real life.  But wouldn't you like to look at it?

Reed:  A computer?  Whoopee.  You could ask.

Trip:  I did.  They said no.

Reed (obedient little boy):  Well, too bad, then.

Trip:  Howzabout we sneak through this cooling duct?  Come on, it'll be fun!

Reed:  What if we get in trouble?

Trip:  Nyah, nyah!  Malcolm's scared!  Malcolm's scared!

Reed:  Fine.  We'll do it.  But don't say I didn't warn you!

Travis' quarters:

Travis (half-nekkid and with absurdly enormous pectoral muscles, answers comm):  Hello?

Archer (over comm):  Travis, could you come down to Launch Bay One?  I need your help.

Travis:  I thought that was off-limits.

Archer:  It's not.  Come down here.  Pretty pretty please?  With a cherry on top?

Travis:  Um, okay.

Cooling duct:

Trip and Malcolm crawl around for a while, then get zapped back to the bridge.  T'Pol looks at them funny.

T'Pol:  What have you two been doing, crawling around on the ground together?

Trip:  You'd really like to know the answer to that, wouldn't you?

Launch Bay One:

Travis:  Captain?  Hello?  Hey, what's this?

Ready Room:

Archer (angry):  Do you have any idea how stupid that little stunt was?

Trip:  How stupid was it?

Archer:  It was so stupid...wait, you're getting me off track.  You could've been transported out into space.

Reed (low voice):  I was hoping...

Archer:  You're senior officers, you should be setting an example!

Reed (to Trip):  I told you we'd get in trouble.

Trip:  It was my idea, sir.

Archer:  Oh, so Reed was too stupid to come up with it himself?  I should give you both a spanking--and no TV for a week!

Trip & Reed:  Yes, Daddy.  I mean, sir.

Archer:  Wait.  Did you see anything interesting?

Trip:  What do you mean by interesting?  I stared at Malcolm's ass most the way through.

Archer:  Actually, I would have gone in there myself if I could.

T'Pol:  Captain, you're needed in Launch Bay One immediately.  (sing-song)  Someone was stoo-pid!

Launch Bay One:

Archer:  What happened?

Phlox:  He's dead, Captain.

Archer:  Yay!  I mean, what?  Dear God, NOOO!  How could this happen?!

ACT 3:

Launch Bay One:

Phlox:  The subcutaneous burns are consistent with isolytic shock, but I have to perform a post-mortem.

Archer:  How did he die?

Phlox (patiently):  I just said.

Trip:  Looks like he was tapped into the GPS grid.

Archer:  What the hell was he doing work here when he was off duty?

Trip:  Well, he has been trying to get noticed more...

Archer:  I thought you informed the crew this was off limits!

T'Pol:  I did.

Archer:  Well, apparently, someone didn't get the message!

Trip:  Who?

Archer:  Travis!

Trip:  Oh, yeah.

Archer:  Let's figure out what happened.

Reed:  We could check his quarters.  See if he has anything worth taking.  I got dibs.

Archer:  Okay.  Go to it.

Station, the Circle Room:

Archer:  A member of my crew is dead.  We don't know what happened.

Computer:  Your inquiry is not recognized.

Archer:  I didn't ask anything yet!  What happened?

Computer:  Your inquiry is not recognized.

Archer:  Rrarh!  Who built this station?

Computer:  I did.  I mean, your inquiry is not recognized.

Archer:  Captain smash!

Computer:  Any damage to these facilities will be charged to your vessel.  We will take your Tactical Officer this time.

Archer:  Fine!

Sickbay:

Phlox:  Computer, begin recording.

Computer:  Your inquiry is not recognized.  Oh, sorry.  (robot voice)  Recording...

Phlox:  Blah, blah, Mayweather, blah, blah, dead, blah, blah, isolytic shock, other medical words, et cetera.  Computer, pause.  Hoshi, what are you doing here?

Hoshi:  I wanted to say good-bye.

Phlox:  He can't talk to you.  He's dead.  And I'm not going anywhere if you meant me.

Hoshi:  I have to.

Phlox:  Fine.

Hoshi (crying):  Hey, he's naked!  I thought this was just a joke.  One time he called me down to decon cause he said he found a new life form.  Turned out he just wanted to rub me down with gel.

Phlox:  It might comfort you to know he felt very little pain.

Hoshi:  Really?  (stops crying)  Oh, that's good!  I'm much better now, I'll go.

Phlox:  Yes, an isolytic shock instantly impairs the...that's odd.

Hoshi:  What?

Phlox:  They're dead.  All of them.

Hoshi:  What?  There's only one Travis.

Phlox:  Ah, that's where you're wrong, sweetcheeks!

Travis' quarters:

Archer:  Hey, what are you doing?

Reed (quickly stuffs something into his pocket):  Nothing, sir.

Archer (eyes him suspiciously):  Did you find anything?

Reed:  Uh, no.  Nothing at all.  Except this letter to his sister.  He was bad-mouthing you.

Archer (angry):  Really?  I'll get him, I'll bust him down to--

Reed:  He's dead, sir.

Archer:  So he is.

Reed:  He says something about you canceling breakfast with him.

Archer:  I never scheduled breakfast with him.  He must have himself confused with you.  Have you located his parents?

Reed:  No.  T'Pol's working on it.  We'll probably never find them.  Maybe if we're lucky, they got killed by pirates, so we won't have to tell them.

Phlox (beeping comm):  Captain, I need to see you right away.

Archer:  What, did someone else die, too?

Sickbay:

Archer:  Find something?

Phlox:  Yes.  This isn't Ensign Mayweather.

Archer:  What?  But it looks like him.  And we don't have any other dead crewmen.

Phlox:  His microbes are dead.  Someone has abducted him and left a facsimile in his place.

Archer (incredulous):  That's the conclusion you come to?  Ha!

Phlox:  I wasn't joking there.

Archer:  Oh.

Bridge:

T'Pol:  I have located Ensign Mayweather's parents.

Archer:  Did you say anything yet?

T'Pol:  Yes.  I told them their son got himself killed like a moron.

Archer:  Better hold off.  Malcolm, can you figure out a way to the computer core?

Reed:  The answer you're looking for is "yes," isn't it?

T'Pol:  We're supposed to depart as soon as the station completes repairs.

Reed:  See?  That's what I tried to tell Trip when we went in there, but did he listen?  No!

Archer (to Trip over comm):  Trip, you get to be the one to stall for time.

Trip:  Huh?

Circle Room:

Trip (has to push entire cart of heavy warp plasma by himself):  Two hundred liters of warp plasma.  Man, that's heavy.

Computer:  Please place your compensation on the transport platform.

Trip:  Now, just a goldarn minute.  I'muna have to ramble on for a while, so you better get comfortable and listen.  First of all--

Computer:  Shut up.

Trip:  On my world, we have a sayin'.  "The customer is always right."

Computer:  Sure you do.  You also have "You get what you pay for."  I mean, your inquiry was not recognized.

Cooling duct:

Reed:  There it is.

Archer:  Okay, you're the cannon fodder.  G'wan.

Reed:  Do I get to be the hero?

Archer & T'Pol:  NO.

Reed transports back onto bridge.  Hoshi, all alone, looks at him.

Reed:  Hi.  Glad to pop by for a few.

Circle room:

Trip (hearing explosions):  Uh, maybe I should go now.  Mommy!  (runs out)

T'Pol (plays around with keys):  Aw, screw it.  (shoots door open)

Enter room with a bunch of aliens hooked up to tubes.

Archer:  Hey.  This is weird.  I've never seen a computer like that before.

ACT 4:

Same thrilling location, the belly of the beast, the heart of darkness...never mind:

Archer:  Any human bio signs?

Computer (politely):  Get out of here, or we will rip your ship open like a can of sardines...

T'Pol:  Yes.  One.  They have been integrated into the computer core.

Archer:  Izzat so?  Do you think it's Travis?

Computer:  Incursion detected.  Vacate this section or you will be DESTROYED.

T'Pol:  I don't know.  Who the hell else would it be?  Look, he's up there!

Archer:  Okay.  Let's just rip this tube thingie out here, another piece of tubing there...

T'Pol:  Don't you think that could cause neurological damage?

Archer:  What do I look like, a freakin' doctor?

T'Pol:  Whatever you say.

Bridge:

Reed:  Three of the arms have grabbed us!

Hoshi:  Who are you talking to?  Me?  You're in command here.

Trip (out of breath, just entering):  Hi.  I'm here.  Umm... (thinks, then shouts)  Polarize the hull plating!  Charge weapons!  Run around the bridge screaming!  Ahh!

Reed:  No effect, sir.  Power's shutting down.

Trip (frantic):  What do we do?  Whadoeedo?

Core:

Travis:  Urf?

Archer:  It's all right, Travis.  We're taking you home.

Travis:  Home?  You mean I don't get to be on Enterprise anymore?

T'Pol:  We're trapped.  Like rats.  Let's blast our way out.  Yeah!

Happily, they return to the ship unscathed.

Bridge:

Archer:  Why aren't there any more people up here?  No one's at the helm!

Trip:  We couldn't find any extras, sir.  I'll take it.

Archer:  What's going on?

Trip:  There's big scary alarms and the lights are going out.  I can't believe it!

Archer:  Let's get out of here!

Trip:  We can't.  Everything's off-line.

Archer:  Oh.  Well, then, set off the bomb.

Reed (gleefully):  That's my favorite thing to do!  I managed to make a bomb in less than five minutes!

Big 'Splosion!

Reed:  Whoo-ha!  It's doing some mighty damage, just like I like it!  It hasn't reached the O-2 conduit yet.

Archer:  Just wait, Sparky, it'll get there.

Close up of T'Pol looking unusually sweaty.

Reed:  Yes!  More 'splosions!

Hoshi:  Everything's coming back on-line!

Reed:  One of the arms is still attached!

Archer:  What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?  Launch a torpedo!

Reed (really damn happy):  Whoo!  More weapons!  (launch)

Archer:  Again!

Reed:  Yes!

Archer:  Okay, let's go.

Trip:  Well, that mighta caused a little damage.  We'da been better off not comin' here.

Archer:  What about the huge hole we had before?

Trip:  Oh.  Except for that.

Sickbay:

Archer:  You look pretty good for a dead guy.

Travis:  I'm not dead, sir.

Archer:  That was a joke.

Travis:  Well, don't joke about me and death, sir.  I'm touchy about that.  The doctor told me what happened.  What happened?

Archer:  Don't worry.  We don't understand, either.

Phlox:  I can explain!

Travis:  But you were the one to explain it in the first place!

Phlox:  Basically, your brain was responsible for fixing our ship.

Travis:  Really?  Cool.  Notice they picked me.

Archer:  When can I have my helmsman back?

Phlox:  You can't.  I wanna try this computer brain out for myself!

Travis (startled):  What?

Phlox:  Don't worry.  It probably won't hurt too much.

Archer:  Friday morning.  Captain's Mess, 0800.  We'll have breakfast.  (claps manly hand on Travis' shoulder)

Travis:  Yes, sir.  Please don't touch me, sir.

Fin.

Oh, yeah.  The station got rebuilt, for more dangerous ship-fixing adventures in the future!

_One o' these days, I'ma see if I can actually get caught up on this season.  I don't know about you guys, but I'm sorta getting sick of these.  Plus, I've moved on to other obsessions.  Will there be a violent backlash threatening me to continue, or will I fade away into greater obscurity?  **You be the judge! **_


End file.
